Being ushered into bed each night is predictable with a cat. Any cat lover knows it’s of utmost importance to be “on time”. My Missy nags whenever I put a kink in its regularity. Bedtime–like feeding time–must always be regular. Whether I’m cooperative or not, however, when I finally do head for the bedroom, my little black friend skeedadles ahead of me. She hops on the bed, and eyes me impatiently until I’ve completely undressed, pulled on my nightgown, brushed my teeth, fluffed and propped up my pillow, and climbed into beside her.

Once I’ve settled beneath the blankets and opened my book, she drapes her warm, furry self over my shoulder and rewards me with a lick or two of approval. Nestling herself against my cheek, she commences purring throughout the next section of my book. Until one—or both of us–slides into dreamland.